Date: Mon, 15 Jul 2002 22:50:29 -0700
From: Jon Hold
Subject: Kevin on the Farm 1/1 t/t frottage growth true oral anal
I wish to apologize to everyone for the inadvertant change of names in the
original issue of this story. Purely my fault for not proofreading more
closely. I have NO idea when or where my brain disengaged and started using
the wrong name. My apologies most intently go to "Henry" and his real-life
lover, Kevin. I do beg your pardon.
This work is copyrighted by the author and may not be used without his
express permission. Private persons and no others are given permission to
have one (1) electronic and/or one (1) printed copy of this work. ASSGM and
Nifty are given permission to archive this work.
All the usual disclaimers that are usual apply here. This is a work of
fiction involving sex acts between consenting persons of various ages and
conditions of life. If you can't handle that or if you are not of the
legal age or mindset, go no further but remove this material from your
possession forthwith.
If you have faggot sensitivity, you ought not read this story. I'd really
like to hear from some of you with either positive or negative comments. I
have no idea really if I'm bringing any of you pleasure or what it is you'd
like me to write about. I only hear from a few people on each story. I'd
really like to hear from YOU so I'll have some idea how I'm doing. Thanks.
I used two returns between paragraphs to simplify formatting for you. This
is a hyphen -. This is an en-dash --. This is an em-dash ---. Other
high-ascii characters that PC's can't understand have been stripped.
Try to keep in mind that while 42 is the meaning of life, it is not the
only possible solution. Jon
Kevin on the Farm
by Jon Hold
M/t/b frottage oral anal growth
I told one of the people I met while taking this trip through the South
(USA) that I was writing a story about a kid named "Kevin". It reminded him
of something that happened to him back in the depression. This is how I
remember the story he told me:
The depression hit a lot of folks really hard. My dad had always been a
prudent man and owed no one money. We owned the whole little valley that
held our farm/ranch on the Pacific coast. My mom had run off with a
traveling salesman and my older sister was married and living a town far
enough away that we never talked, so it was just me and my dad living on
the place. We worked hard, but were mostly self-sufficient and lived
comfortably together. One of my tasks was taking care of the mixed orchard
my grandfather had planted. Since there were so many different kinds of
trees in the orchard, there was always work that needed to be done there as
well as my usual chores. I had no trouble finding something to do with my
time.
That year there was an extraordinarily bountiful crop on the trees and
vines and good fruit was falling on the ground because I couldn't harvest
fast enough. My father couldn't help because, on top of trying to run the
rest of the farm/ranch by himself, he was also trying to preserve and can
(bottle) everything I picked. There was little money in town to buy our
produce, but both my father and I hated to let anything go to waste so we
were filling the basement with all sorts of preserved fruits and
vegetables.
We were taking a quick lunch break and I was telling my dad how much fruit
was going to waste because I couldn't pick it quickly enough when we saw
someone coming up the dirt road leading to our house. Turns out it was a 16
year old young man looking for, "...any sort of work at all, Sir. I'll work
hard for found and maybe a new pair of coveralls when harvest is over." He
was wearing a pair of coveralls with one strap broken, an old pair of
cracked and worn half-boots and he had a napkin in his hand making a small
bundle of all his belongings, as well as a collection of old and new
bruises. Dad asked him about those and he said that the towns people had
taken to beating strangers as well as stealing what little they had. That
seemed pretty un-Christian to Dad and me, but little more than what we
expected from townspeople.
My father talked to Kevin, as he said his name was, for a bit longer and
then told me if I really needed the extra help I could hire Kevin show him
what I wanted done.
That began our relationship.
Kevin had been raised on a farm in the mid-west, so he was handy from the
outset. We mostly worked picking apples but we did manage to talk some.
There was a lively mischievousness to Kevin and a natural charm that peeked
out around the desperate sadness that made you want to like him, and be
liked by him. It seemed odd to me to have a kid four years younger being
the boss, but Kevin never, ever made the least bit of fuss about it. He
just went along being Kevin and enjoying the world to the max. He exuded a
natural aura of arrogant masculine sexuality that was as heady as his
natural body odor. Again, he never made any big thing of it beyond his
natural teasing and playfulness. Even at my age, or, maybe, especially at
my age, I was fascinated by his manly actions. His smell and behavior. It's
like I really wanted to join in and emulate him, but was just not outgoing
enough, nor quite old enough.
We had both filled our picking bags at the same time and were taking a
short break at the bottom of our ladders. Kevin had let the buttons come
loose on the sides of his overalls, to help keep cool I guessed. What with
the broken strap and all his chest and the side facing me were pretty much
exposed. I was lost in thought, wondering if I'd ever have a beautiful body
like that when I noticed Kevin staring at the apples he'd picked. He was
everything but drooling.
"Kevin, are you hungry?"
Startled, the boy jerked back. "No. I'm fine."
"Kevin! My daddy always quotes the bible, "'Never bind the mouths of the
kine that tread the grain.' If you're hungry, eat as much as you want of
what we're harvesting... or whatever else that's ripe. Go easy today though
cuz it's Sunday and Dad's going to be making fried chicken with all the
fixin's, so you want to have plenty of room for that!"
Kevin grinned at me and picked up a big red apple. Looking right at me he
smiled that devilish smile of his and hooked his thumb in the seat of his
overalls, pulling the material back until I could see the entire smooth
curve of his butt. My dick got really, really hard. Kevin grinned even
wider and took a huge bite out of the apple. I got to thinking about what
it would be like to bite into the beautiful apple-smooth curve of his ass
just the same way.
We both ate several more apples that afternoon and Kevin never tried to
cover up, just let me see whatever I could manage to see, which was pretty
much all over one side of his butt and dark shadows in front. I timed my
picking to keep up with Kevin so that we'd be emptying our picking sacks at
the same time. That way I'd get some peeks down inside Kevin's overalls. I
got some pretty good peeks down the backside, but even though the front
hung completely open when Kevin bent over, I never got to see much more
than those dark shadows.
Another benefit was smelling Kevin. We were both working hard and while my
boy-scent didn't change very much, Kevin's man-scent kept getting stronger
and more rank and the more of it I smelled the harder my little pecker got.
A couple of times I got whiffs right from his armpits and it felt like I
was going to have an accident in my pants. His smell just sent chills all
over my body. Kevin seemed to know how much I was enjoying being around
him, it would have been really hard to not notice the bump in my pants, but
he didn't take advantage of it. He just stayed friendly and let me look all
I wanted.
Kevin stopped to take a pee and I stood there watching him like he was
doing anything different than Dad and I did when we pee'd against a tree. I
wanted to go over and pee right next to him like I did with Dad sometimes.
That way, I could get a look at his dick. See what those shadows held. But
all I could do was stand there staring at his back while he pee'd. I was so
entranced I didn't even notice when he turned around, buttoning the front
of his overalls. He saw me watching and instead of getting angry, he just
gave me one of those patented grins of his. I grinned back like I knew what
I was doing.
We finished filling a bin and I said that was enough work for a Sunday. It
was time to get cleaned up and back to the house. We threw our picking bags
into the bin and Kevin jumped on the back of the tractor while I drove.
Kevin, playful now that the workday was almost over, started tickling me
under the arms and all down my rib cage. I'm very ticklish and had fits all
the way to the barn trying to keep Kevin's agile fingers out of my ticklish
spots and drive the tractor at the same time. I no sooner got the
fruit-filled bin into the shade of the barn then I jumped off the tractor
and ran for the back door of the barn, Kevin right behind me. I didn't slow
down on the slope behind the barn or at the edge of the pond. Kevin didn't
even notice the pond until it was way, way too late!
Laughing, Kevin tried to chase me, splashing water all over, to punish me
for tricking him, but I was out of my clothes in a flash and I swam like an
eel. My slick, hairless body moving through the water as if I were a forest
elf or an otter. Kevin stood up and waggled a finger at me while he tried
to blow the water out of his nose, but the grin never left his face. I
teased him because he couldn't catch me. He just pointed at me and grinned,
"You're MINE!" With that he lifted his feet one at a time, removing his
soaked boots and grungy socks. It was the work of a second for him to drop
the overall strap off his shoulders and throw his only remaining article of
clothing up on the grassy bank with his boots. He just stood there, water
up to his knees, totally naked, watching me with that half smiling grin on
his face.
I was stunned. I'd never, in my whole short life seen anything or anyone as
beautiful as Kevin standing there in that sunshiny water.
No one had the right to look so beautiful. So perfect. So, so, so
wonderful. My prong had gone soft in the cold water, but it snapped to
attention instantly to salute Kevin's beauty. He was awesome! Black,
straight, shiny wet hair, just a bit too long, plastered to his perfectly
shaped skull and across his high, unfurrowed forehead. Tight, hard muscles
rippled all over his body. Small, perfectly formed pecs with their dark
brown accent dots danced and twitched with his movements just as the corded
ripples of his hard-plated abdomen did. A tiny line of black hair trailed
down from the indentation of his belly button only to explode into a thick
riot of black curls, now wet and compressed between his heavily muscled and
hairless thighs. The rest of Kevin's legs sort of lost out in my
examination because my eyes sort of got stuck in that bush between his
legs. Kevin's balls didn't hang down the way Dad's and mine did. Instead,
they were held in an almost hairless sack in a tight ball underneath
Kevin's dick, holding it up and out, sort of presenting it for inspection.
And inspect I did. About four inches of thick shaft, only a bit thicker at
the base, arched in a perfectly masculine curve up and over Kevin's big
balls. Most amazing though was that the head, which me and Dad could expose
by pulling back our foreskins to wash ourselves, was already exposed. I
mean, sitting right there in open sight for anyone, especially me, to
see. I didn't see any extra skin either. Just a dark ring around the
shaft. Without even thinking I blurted out, "What's wrong with your dick?"
Realizing what I'd said, I blushed bright red all over my face and down my
chest and looked up at Kevin. Instead of being angry, Kevin was laughing.
"Nothing's wrong with my dick! What's wrong with yours?
At my age I was pretty sensitive about that. My Dad had said something
about 'The Change' and left it at that. But my dick and balls had been
swelling and I'd been getting some odd feelings down there. Something was
wrong, but I didn't know what. I started to stutter, but Kevin just laughed
and said, "Nothing's wrong with my dick, Bo. (That was the first time he
ever called me 'Bo'. He never told me why he nicknamed me that, but he
liked to call me 'Bo' when he was happy with me.) I'm circumcised is all.
See..." he said, showing the side of his dick with the dark ring. I moved
in close and Kevin showed me how the dark ring was the scar left when they
cut his foreskin off. I asked if that didn't hurt something awful and he
said that it was done when he was a newborn baby, so he really didn't
remember any pain at all. Then he let me touch it to see what it felt like
and I even got to feel how smooth his exposed cockhead was.
This was real boy stuff! Exploring and finding out stuff our parents never
knew about ever. Kevin and I had our heads together as he showed me the
differences between our dicks. He even touched me a couple of times and
actually pulled back my foreskin once showing me the differences in my skin
under the hood.
"You know what else?" he whispered in my ear.
"No! What?" I whispered back. Eager for whatever he wanted to show me next.
"Your ass is MINE!" came out as a hoarse whisper.
I stood there like a dummy until what he'd said soaked in. "Aaaaaaayh!!!" I
screamed as I tried to get away.
A lot of good that did me. Kevin was all over me like stink on shit.
Dunking me under water, tickling me until I was begging him for mercy, and
then attacking him right back when he did let go, trying anything I could
to stay even. Through all the splashing and tickling and wrestling I
noticed, really noticed how his hands traveled all over my body. I loved
the way he was so natural about touching me. His warm hands explored me
unself-consciously. Touching me between the legs as easily and comfortably
as on my back. He felt all over my butt, even between my buttocks. He even
took a good long feel of my tight little hole back there. He liked to pick
me up with one hand in my crotch and toss me into the deep part of the
pool. I'd swarm right back at him, eagerly waiting for the next time he'd
throw me, especially after the time one of his finger accidently slipped
inside of my tight little boyhole. Seems like one or another of his fingers
was slipping inside of me at every toss after that.
For my part, it didn't take me long to notice that Kevin really didn't mind
if I touched him to. Rather, he seemed to expect it, and enjoy my
explorations. One thing we both seemed to love was when I jumped on his
back and clung like a limpet as he swam and dove and twisted trying to
unseat me. :The rules were that he couldn't use his hands to pry me loose
and I got to ride him as long as I could hold on --- which was never as
long as I wanted. Feeling his strong warm smoothness against my frontside
kept me tingling all over and was about the best feeling I ever had.
For his part, I let Kevin touch me wherever he wanted, however he wanted,
including putting his fingers up inside of me. He'd pretend to be pooped
and just lay in the water. Then I'd pretend to be a tugboat (my favorite
kind of boat) to his "big ship". Once I even towed him by his "built-in
hawser". He giggled but when the 'hawser' started to stiffen up, he ducked
me and pulled loose.
Kevin had just launched me high into the air with one of his one-handed
(and one fingered) shot-puts when I saw Dad standing on the bank of the
pond. I came up spewing water and wiping my eyes. Dad hollered, "You boys
wash off at the hose stand and come to the house for dinner." With that, he
turned and walked back towards the house.
Kevin and I sloshed out of the pond and Kevin was worried when he saw that
his clothes were gone. I told him Dad probably just took them up to the
house to wash and to get a move on, we didn't want to be late to Sunday
dinner. Kevin followed me over to the hose stand in the middle of the
barnyard. A simple pipe and hose bib stuck up out of the ground. A big
black rubber hose was attached to the hose bib and there was a big platform
of spaced redwood planks all around the hose bib. The pipe was attached to
a 4 x 4 buried in the ground with an about one foot square redwood
birdhouse looking contraption holding several bars of soap and a couple of
washcloths.
"Here," I said to Kevin. "You can use my washcloth and I'll use Dad's. We
can bring one down for you later."
Kevin seemed to glory in the warm sunshine, cold water, and lots and lots
of soapsuds. He noticed that I was a lot less enthusiastic in my use of the
soap and washcloth. Shaking his head he took my arm and started washing me
properly, getting behind my ears and the back of my neck. Hell, he even
washed between my legs and bent me over to wash between my buttocks. By
then I was totally complaisant, willing to let him do anything to me he
wanted to just as long as he'd keep touching me. Then we had fun spraying
the soap off of each other. Kevin soaped us up a second time and even a
third. Then he sniffed my armpit and made me sniff his to make sure he
didn't stink any more. Personally, I was willing to let him stink all he
wanted too and was pleased that he didn't stink, but still smelled just
like Kevin should. That was the cleanliest I'd ever been since Momma died.
We hopped over to the grass and walked back up to the house, my little
boner leading the way. Kevin seemed a little worried about not having any
clothes on, but followed me anyway, his hand on my shoulder... which felt
really great. Up the stairs to the porch and Dad had laid out clothes for
us. Pajama bottoms and bedroom slippers for me. New overalls, clean cotton
socks and a barely used pair of boots laid there waiting for Kevin. He just
stood there staring.
"Go ahead, Kevin. They're for you. Dad bought the overalls for my sisters
husband, but he said he wouldn't be caught dead wearing them. The boots and
socks are Dad's. He put them out here for you, so I guess he expects you to
wear them."
Acting strangely, quieter than he'd been all day, Kevin went ahead and got
dressed, then we went into the kitchen where Dad and I ate all our meals.
Three places were set this afternoon. Dad turned around from the stove and
saw us.
"Well, If it ain't the boys from the Black Lagoon!" he laughed. He looked
Kevin up and down. "Can't say as you don't clean up pretty good, for a
kid. You can keep those coveralls, looks like they fit pretty good. But I'd
appreciate the return of the boots and socks after we get to town to buy
you some that fit properly.
Dad spoke in the same tone of voice as if he were telling us about the
weather and when he wanted the cows milked.
Kevin just stood there staring. Like he didn't understand whatever foreign
language Dad had been speaking. Then his face seemed to fall apart and he
tried to hide behind his hands as he burst out crying. Dad grabbed him
before he could run off and held the crying boy against his chest. Dad
could be real comforting when a guy didn't feel so good.
I was lost. I didn't know what was wrong or why Kevin was crying but I knew
something was hurting him and I wanted it to stop. NOW!. I tried to hold
Kevin like my Daddy was and pat him and tell him not to cry. That
everything was going to be okay. That Daddy and I would murderize anybody
that tried to hurt him and please would he stop crying I didn't want him to
hurt and what could I do to help.
All that just seemed to make Kevin cry even harder. Dad held onto Kevin,
holding him so that he could cry with his face buried in Dad's shoulder.
Dad patted me on the back to reassure me, but I wrapped my arms around Dad
and Kevin's waist's and refused to let go, burying my face between Dad's
mature solidness and Kevin's youthful hardness. I didn't want Kevin to
hurt, and I didn't know what else to do, so I started crying right along
with Kevin. Dad just held and rocked us.
Kevin had stopped crying and was just sort of sobbing and holding onto Dad,
who, before Kevin could start feeling ashamed, leaned back and looked down
at both of us. Shaking his head and making light of what had happened, Dad
said, "Boy! Are you two ever a mess. Kevin! Take this boy-child of mine
into the bathroom and wash his face. I want both of you back in here in ten
minutes with clean faces, happy thoughts, and big appetites. Now get
moving!" And with that admonition he pushed us towards the bathroom and
swatted our butts. I took Kevin by the hand and showed him where the
bathroom was.
Dad was really forward thinking for his time and we had not only piped
water from a windmill filled water tower, but we had a complete indoor
bathroom. Kevin was really impressed. It was the first real bathroom he had
ever seen. I showed him how the hot (with water from the tank built into
the kitchen stove on the other side of the wall) and cold faucets worked in
the hand basin and told him I'd show him how the tub worked later. Kevin
splashed the tears off his face and then grabbed me and used a washcloth to
scrub my face. I was sputtering and fighting it the whole time, but
secretly I really liked how Kevin's hand felt holding onto my neck and how
he was paying attention to me. When he got done we dried our faces on the
same face towel and hung it back up.
"Look what else we've got!" I called, lifting the lid on the ceramic pot
and pointing. Kevin looked confused until I opened my fly so I could pull
out my dink and start pissing. Kevin grinned in recognition and swaggered
over next to me, pulling out his own wang so he could piss right along with
me. We got to sword fighting with our piss streams and I missed most of the
first real chance for a good close-up look I had at Kevin pissing. What I
did get to see threatened to give me a boner even though I was peeing.
Kevin just laughed at my half-hard little dink, shook the last drops off
his tool and sucked it back inside his coveralls by shifting his butt
back. Then he winked at me and swaggered back over to the hand basin to
wash up for dinner.
We were both laughing when we entered the kitchen and Dad said, "Now, that
sounds better! Get your butts in those chairs and let's find out if these
chickens died for a good reason."
I pointed to where Kevin should sit, right next to me and across the table
from Dad. Kevin sat down and started to reach for some biscuits and stopped
just in time when he saw me shaking my head. Dad's not what you'd call real
religious, but he does believe in thanking the Maker for the food we
receive. Dad made the blessing over food and THEN we dug in. Kevin sort of
held back, trying to be polite I guess, and Dad noticed.
"Kevin! I like breasts and that scamp of mine likes drumsticks. Now, I can
eat two breasts at the most and he can mangle three legs at best. The way I
figure, I cooked two chickens so that leaves you with two breasts, at least
one leg and all the rest of the pieces. If it looks like we're going to run
out of corn or potatoes or something, I'll cook some more. I can't believe
that a teenager your size ain't hungry. So, the way you're picking at your
food, I guess that maybe you just don't like my cooking... and I can get
plumb mean if someone don't like my cooking!"
I was trying to drink some milk when Dad made his little, "Wake Up and Eat"
speech. I tried to drink and laugh at the same time and ended up spewing
milk out of my nose. Everyone except me seemed to enjoy that and Kevin
buckled down and got to work packing calories into his narrow frame. Dad
beamed when he saw how Kevin could eat. I tried to keep up and ate myself
into a stupor. Dad started to carry me out on the porch, but I just belched
in his face when he tried to lift me. We all got to laughing over that and
Kevin crouched down so I could climb up on his back. He carried me out on
the porch were Dad sat rocking in his rocking chair and Kevin and I shared
the swinging bench. Kevin sat up and I laid down across the rest of the
bench with my head in his lap. The three of us talked about lots of stuff
and watched the sun set. Dad kept grinning at Kevin and me for no reason at
all.
After we had digested for a while, Kevin took my hand and said that it was
time to go do the dishes. For once, I didn't argue, which impressed Dad no
end, and followed right along. Kevin helped me clear and then he washed and
I dried and put away. We chattered like a couple of magpies getting to know
each other. Dad came in and said he was going to bed and that Kevin should
sleep with me until we could clean a bedroom for him.
When the dishes were done I told Kevin that if he was going to sleep in my
bed that he was going to have to take a bath and get clean first. Kevin
started to complain that it was too dark to go to the pond again. I just
'shushed' him and motioned for him to follow me. I went to the bathroom, a
quizzical Kevin, thinking that he was already pretty clean, behind me, and
directly to the big cast iron tub where I started the hot water running.
Kevin's eyes got wide and then, at my big grin, he started peeling off his
clothes. Immediately it was a race to see who could get naked first. Near
as we could tell, it was a tie, even if I did fall down because I was
eyeballing Kevin's nakedness instead of paying attention to what I was
doing. Kevin just laughed and then, just like it was the most natural thing
in the world, he helped me finish undressing. Kevin saw my boner, but he
just grinned and winked at me. Somehow, that made me feel really special.
I adjusted the water temperature and then added some of the bath bubble
stuff Dad had gotten me. Kevin watched it bubble up wide-eyed. I just
laughed and climbed in the tub and sat down. Kevin stared at the way I just
disappeared into the bubbles right up to my chin.
"Come on, Little Boy." I teased. "Climb in the tub before the water gets
cold."
Kevin got a big smile on his face and climbed in. The feeling of the
bubbles as he sat down set him to laughing, and I quickly joined him.
"Little Boy, huh! I'll show you little boy."
That set us off. Now, I don't know if you've ever actually seen one of the
old cast iron tubs, but they were nothing like a modern tub. A full grown
man could lay down in the bottom of ours, and when I was sitting down my
eyes barely cleared the side of the tub, and I was tall for my age. I was
sitting at the faucet end of the tub and Kevin had sat down at the other
end, facing me, our legs crossing. Now Kevin came after me, I squealed and
tried to escape and the Battle Royale was on. Laughing and screaming and
gasping for air as we attacked each other with glee. Kevin didn't mind
grabbing me anywhere he could get a hold --- and that really excited me. I
loved the feeling of his hands grabbing me --- and I loved squirming my
slippery body up against his.
"And what are you wild Indians up to?"
Uh-oh!!! We'd woken Dad up!
"Oh! Hi, Dad."
"Hi? That's all you've got to say?" Dad said as he picked up our clothes
from the water all over the floor.
I giggled and Kevin had to duck his head and cover his mouth to keep from
laughing at Dad's mixture of concern and gruffness.
"Oh, yeah?" Dad said, raising one eyebrow and giving use the 'old
evil-eye'.
That made me giggle even louder and Kevin snorted trying to keep from
laughing.
"Well! Let's see how you like this. You guys get cleaned up and get ALL
this water off the floor and get to bed. We've got a long day tomorrow. Now
stand up!"
I knew what was coming, cuz Dad had done this since I was a little kid. I
also knew that he wasn't kidding and I could either do what he said or that
he'd quickly give me a reason to do what he said the next time. I promptly
stood up and turned my bare butt to face Dad.
When Kevin just sat there, Dad pointed and said, "You too, Buster! Let's
see that butt!"
Blushing. Not knowing what was going on. Kevin hesitantly stood up and I
took his arm and turned him so his butt faced Dad. Looking gruff, Dad
swatted my ass, and Dad didn't pull his swats at all. The bathroom rang
with the sound and I bounced off the wall. Dad looked at Kevin, waiting to
see what his reaction would be. Kevin was looking at Dad, really, really
scared. I could tell. He was shaking all over. Then Kevin looked at me and
back at Dad. When Kevin looked at me the second time I nodded, urging him
to go along with what Dad was doing. I knew that Dad would never say
anything if Kevin didn't want to accept his chastisement. But I also knew
that Kevin would not be with us long if he didn't. Dad's attitude was,
"Don't do the crime --- if you can't do the time."
Kevin smiled at me, still afraid. But he turned his backside all the way to
Dad and leaned forward, putting his hands against the wall. Dad swatted him
a good one and then said, "Now you boys finish getting cleaned up, clean up
this floor and get to bed!"
The door closed behind Dad just in time to keep him from hearing my first
giggle. Kevin told me to shush and tried to keep me quiet, but I just
couldn't stop giggling. Kevin put his hand over my mouth, but then started
laughing himself.
"Wow! Your Dad really swats hard!"
"That's nothing!" I boasted. Wait 'til he's really mad! He can swat you all
the way across the barnyard. That led us to comparing swats we had known
(Daddy wasn't really into spanking me, except for one time when I set my
teachers dress on fire (what really seemed to upset him was that she was in
the dress at the time)). I sort of got the idea that, somewhere along the
line, someone had been beating the crap outa Kevin. One thing and another
and we got to comparing Dad's handprint on our butts, and I even kissed
Kevin's to make it feel better. He tried to swat mine to make it feel
better when I pulled the plug to the tub, but I ducked and he got
sidetracked watching the water swirl down the drain.
Drying off, we got to giggling and trying to tickle each other. Just plain
old high spirits and youthful enthusiam. Having Kevin around sure was
fun. Somehow, we did manage to get dry. Only then did we realize that we
didn't have any clothes to put on to get to my bedroom. Giggling, I led the
way, streaking naked up the hallway to the staircase leading up to my
bedroom, Kevin right behind me. When we turned the corner, the light was on
in Dad's den and he was at his desk, reading. "You boys better quiet down
if you don't want to meet Mr. Palm again!" Dad shouted as he watched us run
by.
That brought a new fit of giggles and burst of speed. When I went too slow
on the stairs, Kevin picked me up in his muscley arms and charged up two
steps at a time. He dropped me on the floor, on my butt, at the top of the
stairs. Complaining about the pain and laughing at the same time, I charged
off for my bedroom, bounced off the door jam, did a flying leap over the
foot of the bed and landed with a great groaning and clashing of old
springs. Kevin took the time to close the bedroom door, shutting out all
the light from the room except the little bit that filtered through the old
tree outside my window. Putting his hands up like claws and growling like a
monster, Kevin started tromping towards the bed. I squealed in mock fear
and tried to hide from the monster under my pillow. Kevin grabbed my butt
where it stuck out.
We had the most lovely wrestling match. Kevin was lots and lots stronger
than I was, but he was very careful and gentle with me. Besides, I was
really fast and hard to keep hold of. The object of the match seemed to be
to see just who could tickle whom. Whatever the rules were, I had never
before in my life had so much fun. Deep in my pounding, racing heart,
in-between fits of panic that Kevin was going to get me again, I hoped that
he would stay with me and Dad forever.
We finally collapsed in exhaustion. Kevin first, but I think he was
quitting because he knew I was about to pass out.
Breathing hard. Both our heads on one pillow. The smell of boy-sweat and
young male teen-sweat mixing in our nostrils, Kevin and I lay there looking
at each other. Both of us, I think, thinking about how much we liked each
other. Years later, Kevin told me that he was trying to protect himself by
only hoping that this could last until the end of harvest season when he
knew he'd have to leave because there'd be no need for an extra mouth to
feed through the winter. I cry every time I think of the pain he must have
been hiding.
"Are you going to masturbate tonight?" I asked out of nowhere.
"Huh?"
"Are you going to masturbate tonight? Dad says all men and boys play with
their thing after they get hair. Can I watch? I've heard Dad going at it,
and I've seen him all swollen up and everything like that, but he never
lets me watch him masturbate. I'll be really quiet if you let me watch. I
promise!" I said, crossing-my-heart-swear-to-die.
I could feel the heat from Kevin's face. He must have been blushing like
crazy. "I didn't mean to embarrass you Kevin. I'm sorry. I'll leave the
room if you want to masturbate alone."
Kevin put his arm on my shoulder. "No. That's OK, Squirt. This is your
bedroom. But I don't need to masturbate tonight, thank you anyway."
"Dad says that young guys need to masturbate all the time, even when they
should be working. Besides," I said, reaching down and touching the big
bone sticking out of his middle, a bone so hot I thought it was burning my
fingers --- and they could burn all they wanted to, I'd never felt anything
that smooth or hard or alive in my life... Any how, "Besides," I said,
"your thing looks like it's about to explode.
"Oh, Jeez!!" Kevin said, looking down. "Please don't touch me there,
Squirt. I'm about to explode."
"Does it feel good?"
"Unhhhhhhhhhh... Ohhhhhhhhhh..."
"Yeah. Good!" My hand wrapped around the soft hardness and I was
fascinated. Enthralled. Addicted. Eager to see what was making Kevin's eyes
roll like that. Once I pulled his skin up over his bald head. Then a second
time. Kevin grabbed my hand and moaned really loud, trying to tell me that
I had to stop. But I held on and he held on and his hips started moving,
pushing corded steel through my hand. The shaft and his palm so hot it felt
like my hand should be cooking. Once. Twice. A third hump and Kevin
squeezed my hand really hard over the head of his dick. Something hot.
Twisting, speeding strands. Jumping away from Kevin and landing,
splattering against my belly, my chest, and, when I pushed down with my
hand, the burning liquid covered my little stiffie --- and I started to
convulse. It scared me. I didn't know what was happening. My whole body was
tingling and sizzling and twisting around. Kevin kept shooting and I pulled
my hand away and grabbed Kevin and held onto him for dear life. Kevin held
me. Tightly. So wonderfully tightly. Just as if his life depended our being
together just as much as mine did. Kevin kept hunching, driving his
spurting organ against my tingling little thing and my belly. I hunched
right back at Kevin, helping him as much as I could.
Wish I could make this story romantic. But it had been a long, hard day.
Work. Meeting someone new. More work. Plotting. Planning. A certain amount
of stress, on everyone's account. Kevin and I held onto each other as hard
as we could, and fell asleep.
Cock crow woke me. Or maybe it was cock poke. Kevin had another hard one
and it was poking me in the belly. I giggled and that woke Kevin. He was
sort of embarrassed and tried to back off, but we were glued together.
Laughing, I teased Kevin by hunching my belly against his thing. He
retaliated by rolling on top of me and hunching right back. We were
laughing and giggling and Kevin was starting to get serious about riding me
when Dad's voice came up the staircase, "You two going to stay in bed half
the day? Or are you going to have some breakfast before you start work?"
I yelled, "We'll be right there, Daddy!"
Kevin and I broke out giggling, imagining both of us walking into the
kitchen glued together with boners sticking out. Kevin, regardless of my
protests, managed to unstick us and say, "We'd better wash this guck off
quick."
I led the way downstairs and to the bathroom where Kevin and I washed each
other and then air-dried as we pee'd together.
"Kevin?"
"Yeah, Sprout?"
"Ya know what happened to me last night...?"
"Was that the first time you had an orgasm."
"An Or... or gan ism?"
"You know. Cumming. Like I did. Only you ain't got no juice yet."
"Dad says that you shouldn't say 'ain't got no'!"
"Quit dodging. Was that your first time?"
I'd already finished peeing and was just watching Kevin shake off the last
drops. "Yeah. I guess so." I admitted, not sure if I should tell him it was
the most wonderful thing I'd ever felt. That HE was the most wonderful
thing I'd ever felt.
"Great!" He grinned. "Glad I could be there for it!" and he actually kissed
me. Right on the forehead. Just like it was the most natural thing in the
world. Just like Dad did when I'd done something that really pleased him,
or when he was feeling a little sad. I grabbed Kevin and hugged him as hard
as I could. He took that for a few seconds then he pushed me back.
"Hey! Come on, Runt. You're putting me on the rail again! Let's go find
some clothes before your dad makes us work naked."
"That'd be fun."
Kevin took a mock swing at me, but it was easy to duck. I grabbed Kevin's
hand and drug him off to the kitchen.
"Mornin', Dad!" I chimed.
"Mornin', Sir." Kevin said, sort of bashfully.
"Morning, Boys." Dad turned from the stove with a spatula in his hand and
saw us standing there in all our radiant glory. "You two planning on
scaring the milk out of the cows this morning?"
"Quit being droll, Father Dearest." I said in my best high-falutin'
voice. "My companion hath no clothing, hence, I, the ever perfect host,
shall wear none either."
Dad turned to face us again. Put one hand on his hip and waved the spatula
under my nose. "Don't you get all high and mighty on me boy. Seems to me
like a certain naked butt is all too accessible for you to be getting
airs!"
Leaning forward, getting nose to nose with me, like he does when I've been
particularly dense and he wants to make sure I'm listening. "Have you
looked on the table at the bottom of the stairs?"
"Uh. Nope."
"Uh!!! Maybe you should."
"OK! Thanks!" I chirped, as if he were a servant and I the lord and
master. I'd have gotten away with my act too, if I hadn't forgotten about
that spatula.
Kevin followed me down the hallway, laughing at the red and white pattern
on my butt, right where Dad's handprint had been the night before. On the
fancy table Mom had put at the bottom of the stairs were fresh, clean
clothes for Kevin. Dad must have washed them last night and put them out
for Kevin that morning. Looking up at Kevin, I said, "Dad sure is great
sometimes."
I think I saw something glistening in Kevin's eye. Maybe a tear. "Yeah."
was all he could say. I grabbed his clothes and ran upstairs.
"Hey, Thief!" he hollerd, and lit out after me. Three minutes later we were
scarfing breakfast. Dad had put out cold fried chicken. Fried ham, hot
biscuits and gravy, bacon, spicy sausages, both patty and link, a big mess
of porridge and asked us how many eggs we wanted and how we wanted them
cooked. Kevin looked a little confused, but dug right in. Most folks did
the morning chores and then had breakfast. Dad was grumpy as hell 'til he'd
eaten and said that the cows didn't mind when they got milked, just so long
as they got milked twice a day. I didn't argue.
Dad asked what I planned for the day and I said that Kevin and I were going
to have to work hard to keep the fruit off the ground. Dad nodded and said
that if we'd gather the eggs, he'd take care of the milking himself so we
could get started. He reminded me that his sister was coming that day and
that the way she worked it would be all us menfolk could do to keep up with
her. I agreed and buckled down to eatin'.
Aunt Jane and her two oldest daughters stayed a week. She and Dad and the
girls canned everything Kevin and I could pick, slaughtered two pigs and
did all the cooking and smoking. She canned everything Dad could get from
the truck garden. You never saw such a mess of jars in your life! I think
her girls were jealous that I got to sleep with Kevin and they didn't. They
were always trying to hang around him and making ogle eyes at him. Wonder
how they'd have acted if they knew Kevin and I were jacking each other off
night and morning --- and sometimes when we stopped for our noon box
lunch. I was getting to where I could jack Kevin off, "...better than I can
whack myself!" and all he had to do was run his fingers up and down my
spine or touch my dingus and I'd start going off. The more I was around
Kevin, the more I wanted to be around him.
Sunday we went to church. Aunt Jane was big on going to church and it
didn't matter what the rest of us thought or how tired we were. Sunday was
the Lord's day and you WERE going to honor it! Aunt Jane wasn't too great
on discussing things. But she was excellent at being bossy! Trouble was,
she was not only a wonderful person, she was a fantastic cook and all three
of us males would do just about anything for her --- or one of her peach
cobblers.
Church was actually pretty good. The preacher didn't go on and on for a
change. He just told the story of the Good Samaritan and talked a bit about
how some folks was just naturally good, and some folks wasn't. Then he
helped us portion out our 'Extras'. Parts of the pigs that had to be eaten
soon, Jars of fruit and vegetables that "there just wasn't any room for,
and hate to let them go to waste." Everything was done like good neighbors,
some folks only taking a "Special mess of figs the boys picked just for
you." Or a couple of jars of peaches. Some folks got enough to really help
them through the coming winter. We all pretty much knew each other and who
needed what. No embarrassment in needing a little help from time to time,
long as you were an honest person and worked hard, or at least tried
to. Mrs. Gammage had nine kids, and adopted her husbands sisters eleven
when the parents died of the cholera. Then her husband got killed by that
crazy mule of his and she was a widow trying to raise twenty kids, none
older than fourteen. She and the girls that could did sewing for nearly
everyone in town and her boys took care of a bunch of chickens and five
cows and took milk and eggs to the general store every morning before
school. Owner of the store didn't pay them nothing, just took it off their
account. Everyone in town was pretty sure he doctored his books to make
sure they got everything they needed, but at least they were trying. Daddy
and Aunt Jane gave them a whole ham, a mess of canned stuff and enough
sweetmeats and such to keep them in full bellies for a week without
touching the ham or canned goods.
They gave Daddy and me each two shirts made of flour sacking. Real nice
they was too! Maw looked Kevin over real close, like her eyes was measuring
him for a couple of shirts. "This one of yours now, Hubble?"
Daddy looked up at Kevin, and then back at Mrs. Gammage, "Don't rightly
know. Sure is a good worker though." Pointing at the jars we'd given her,
he said, "Picked most of those fruits by his-self, he did!"
I started to sputter, but Daddy just tweaked my ear and laughed.
"Good looking boy." Mrs. Gammage said, looking right at Kevin. That set all
the girls off. Giggling and pointing at Kevin. It was enough to turn a boys
stomach. Luckily, Sammy Johnsone called 'time in' just then and the boys'
never ending game began once again. The rules were sort of flexible, and
the game was sort of a blend of baseball, football, tag, and dodge ball.
Played with whatever ball or balls happened to be present, the game lead to
some really great arguments and a lot of burned off energy for everyone
involved. Kevin's main rule seemed to be that he and I stuck together no
matter what banishments the bigger boys used to urge him way from 'the
babies.' Kevin and I creamed 'em. We were SO good together!
Aunt Jane stayed in town with friends so she could catch the early train to
the city where she lived, taking lots of canned goods and paper wrapped pig
with her. Kevin and I fell asleep under some sacks in the back of the wagon
and Daddy dozed while the horses found our way home. We woke up naked in
bed with Daddy in the morning. He said that he was not about to try and
carry us upstairs, we were getting too big. I was proud. Kevin was just
embarrassed that he hadn't woken up to help Dad carry me in. We both agreed
with each other that being cuddled up naked in bed with Daddy was something
special.
That week was busy too. Gathering in the last of the fruit. Preparing
vegetables for the root cellar. Starting to dig potatoes and getting the
other harvesting going. Late to bed, early to rise. We were getting really
pooped. Somehow though, I always manage to help Kevin jack off in bed
morning and night and get whatever extras we could.
Kevin cut himself chopping firewood and I had hysterics until Daddy stopped
the bleeding and showed me that it was just a small wound. Then I got mad
at Kevin for scaring me like that.
We did everything together. We bathed together. We worked together. We
slept together (Daddy just kept putting aside getting Kevin's bedroom ready
and when he finally did I started crying and wanted to know why everyone I
knew slept with their brothers so why couldn't Kevin and I. Kevin said he
didn't mind and was comfortable in the big bed with me. Daddy grinned and
hugged both of us at the same time. He told Kevin that the other bedroom
was his and he could do whatever he wanted to with it, or sleep with me if
he preferred). We even started using the old outhouse together because we
could sit side-by-side and talk as we crapped. A couple of times I even
leaned over and gave Kevin 'a hand'.
Kevin thought about it, long enough to just about cause me a fit, and then
asked Dad, "Sir. If you don't mind, I'd just as soon sleep with the
widgit."
I didn't care what names Kevin made up to call me, I jumped on him and
hugged him and let out a war whoop that had both Dad and Kevin covering
their ears in self-defense. That night Kevin and I spent a long, slow time
feeling each other and teasing each other and just feeling good. Kevin
spent a lot of time running his hands all over me. He loved to feel my
hairless body just as much as I loved having him feel me. I was laying
there with my eyes closed, totally aware of where his hands were touching
me. That was one of the wonderful things. Kevin and I could look at each
other, feel each other, even see and hear and smell each other sweating and
going to the bathroom or anything, and we were never embarrassed. Either by
seeing, or by being seen. I loved to watch Kevin jack-off. But even more, I
loved touching Kevin and bringing the good feelings to his hairy body.
Kevin was expert in bringing good feelings to my body as well. He could
make me have dry orgasms, one after another all night long (we actually did
that, and then fell asleep in the orchard the next day), or just make me
feel good, like he was just then. His hands were magic, and then I felt his
lips on me. Hot. Dry. Touching my nipples. Tongue flickering. Teasing my
nipples. Almost tickling, but not quite. Almost making me have another
orgasm, but not quite. But feeling great, totally!
Magic lips started to travel and Kevin laid down on top of me, rubbing his
body against mine as his lips sought mine --- and found them --- willing
--- eager --- wanting. We kissed. Lip to lip at first. I don't know who's
tongue darted out first, but soon we were both licking at each other and
then our tongues met and joyfully mingled. Kevin's spit in my mouth was the
most wonderful thing ever and his tongue rubbing around inside me gave me a
boner so hard I was afraid that it might explode. I lifted my legs and
wrapped them around Kevin's narrow waist to control how hard he rubbed
against me. Kevin moaned and stuck his tongue even deeper into my mouth. I
strained up against Kevin and he hugged me as tight as he could, my heels
alternately rubbing up and down his crack, causing him to really hunch
deeply against me.
I scrunched up a bit to get better access to Kevin's lips and his dong fell
from in-between us. He was so rigid though that it popped right back up. It
stuck in my crack tough and never made it the rest of the way up to his
belly when it was usually pressed by his hardness. This time his blunt nose
caught in my crack and he instinctively pushed forward. That felt fantastic
to me and we just left it like that. Us kissing. His cock leaking his juice
all over both of us. My buttocks trying to grab and hold and rub his
exposed glans. Him pushing against me with little movements and me pushing
right back. Everything we were doing feeling great to both of us.
Kevin's lower nose found and met my tender rosebud, and they liked each
other. They kissed and fondled each other and kissed some more. Smooth
roundness nosing against twitching, puckering shy blushing rose. Rose
stealing kisses from ardent suitor. Ardent suitor begging, enticing,
entreating. Rose bud blushing and getting very hot with flaming blood
stream. Bluntness kissing, then parting, then entering. Rounded nosetip,
smiling tiny lips covered in pink velvet darkness, puckering and parting,
pouring fourth the offering of Adonis to his beloved, his desired, his
lover.
"Baby..." Kevin stuttered. Afraid.
"Go ahead. I love you."
"Oh... Oh... I can't little brother. I'll hurt you."
He. Kevin. He! He called me 'brother'! "I know, Big Brother. I know it will
hurt. But not as much as not having you inside me."
"Oh... BABY BROTHER!"
Kevin crushed his lips to mine and hugged me with all the strength in his
soul. I pushed down as hard as I could and Kevin entered me. Slowly,
steadily, smoothly. One long, slick slide of boy against boy until his
wonderful pubic hair crushed against my bottom and I knew that Kevin was as
far inside of me as he could go. I started crying and cumming at the same
time. Something strange was happening inside of me and it really hurt. I
was going to ask Kevin to stop --- to leave my insides --- when he said,
"Look down, Little Brother. Look down."
I did. And I was cumming. Not a dry orgasm. I was cumming. My first Real
Juice! Thin, and not a lot of it, but Kevin's being inside of me brought me
my first real orgasm. It didn't hurt. It just felt strange and I thought
that meant it hurt. The fluid was sort of burning against the walls of my
tubes as they were coated with my seed for the first time. It felt
wonderful!
I hugged Kevin and he stroked inside of me. I came again. Juice bubbling up
out of my pee hole. It was wonderful. "Do me again, Kevin. Do me again!" I
urged.
Kevin stroked me again and we both laughed when a new stream spurted out
onto Kevin's belly, and then onto mine with his next stroke. We hung onto
each other, clung to each other as Kevin and I gave our virginity to each
other. Kevin fucked me with all the youthful enthusiasm and lack of skill
one could expect from a virgin fourteen year old pretending to be a sixteen
year old stud. I was totally unaware of any shortcomings Kevin might have
had. His meat filled me up and I was in the most wonderful place ever, and
I never wanted to come back. Every stroke brought a new thrill. Every
contact with his hard, heaving, heavy, sweating, steaming, stroking body
was joyous. I wanted MORE and Kevin was giving me all he had, and driving
me almost insane in the process. How Dad didn't hear us, I'll never know,
except to assume that he was too much of a gentleman to not be deaf at the
proper time.
I was screaming and begging Kevin to fuck me harder. Kevin was bellowing
and squealing louder and much deeper voiced than I was. Both of us were
making that old bed squeak and thump against the headboard like the fury's
after the four horsemen. It's a wonder the house didn't fall down, or at
least that old iron bed.
Luckily, the next day was Sunday, and Dad let us sleep in.
Bashfully, knowing how much noise we must have made, Kevin and I crept
downstairs, hoping to get outside and to our chores before Dad noticed
us. He was waiting for us in the kitchen.
Dad motioned us over and I crawled up on his knee, knowing it was time for
'a little talk'. Dad patted his other leg and motioned Kevin to sit down.
Kevin did, but where I leaned my head against Daddy's chest, Kevin sat
there rigid, terrified of what was coming.
"Boys." Dad started. Looking at me and holding Kevin down when he jumped
and started to run away. "I just want you to know that, no matter what, I
love you. Do you understand?"
I nodded 'Yes' and mumbled something. Kevin just sat there. Trembling,
sweat pouring down his face. I was so afraid for him.
"Kevin. I don't know what other people have done to you, and I don't want
to know. All I need to know is that you are a responsible young man and
that my son seems to like you."
I punched Dad in the ribs, HARD! "Daddy!"
Dad pinched my butt and I jumped up, loudly protesting such a dastardly
attack to my dignity. Dad just told me to go about my business and leave
the important stuff to real men. That got him another punch in the ribs,
but I did take the hint and move far enough away to start cooking some eggs
for breakfast.
Dad helped Kevin stand up and then stood up himself. Kissing Kevin on the
forehead, just like Kevin had kissed me, Dad said, "Mi casa es su casa,
Kevin. Come or go as you please." Later I told Kevin that meant, "My house
is your house," and Kevin just stood there and cried.
By the time Kevin and I finished breakfast and cleaned up, Dad had the
chores done and the team hooked up. He also had a mess of eggs and two hams
that Mr. Johnsone at the Mercantile had asked for loaded up. We all got in
the front seat and headed for town, Kevin and I in high spirits and Dad
just grinning and enjoying our foolishness.
We got to town and Dad bought Kevin a whole set of work clothes, including
TWO new pairs of boots and a pair of dress shoes. A fancy shirt for
"courting and dancing" and even had Mrs. Gammage come over to fit Kevin to
a new suit. She brought two new flour sack shirts with her that she and her
girls had made for Kevin and Kevin blushed when he took them. Kevin was
sort of in shock at all the new stuff but I just grinned and wheedled a
couple of new shirts out of Dad as well.
"Did'ja hear the news, Hubble?"
"What news is that, Mr. Johnsone?"
"Why, the President of the United States himself is coming through town
today, and since the train has to water up anyway, he's gonna make a
speech. You and the boys can't miss that!"
I started jumping up and down with, "Please, Daddy? Please? Oh, please,
please, please!"
Dad swatted my butt and told me to mind my manners, embarrassed at the way
I was acting in front of others. Mrs. Gammage just smiled around a mouthful
of needles and pins and Mr. Johnsone slapped me on the back and said I was
a credit to my schooling. Dad mumbled something about my time on earth
being short!
We did get to meet the President. And the President remembered Daddy from
some business they'd had at the State Legislature.
The President asked, "And who might these fine young men be?"
Daddy sort of puffed his chest out and said, "Sir, I'd like you to meet my
sons. This is Kevin and this is his baby brother, 'The Mouth'."
I sputtered in protest and the President laughed but Daddy was looking
straight at Kevin and Kevin was just standing there. Sons. "Sons" my father
had said.
The President shook Daddy's hand again and went on to talk to some other
folks. Daddy just put his arms out and Kevin and I crowded in as close as
we could.
When Dad died he left my mother one dollar and my sister "The house she and
her husband and family live in that they never paid me for." Everything
else he left to "My sons, Kevin and Henry." The ranch. A thriving Real
Estate business in town operated by his lifelong friend. Some stocks and
bonds and a rather small piece of paper with the combination to a rather
large safe in Dad's den. Inside the safe were 424 bundles of paper (amongst
other things, including a rather large and well used dildo). Each bundle
had 100 pieces of paper and each piece of paper was valued by the
U. S. Treasury at $1,000.00. Dad's little legacy to his sons. $42,400,000
tax-free dollars.
Kevin died last year. That ended our relationship... at least 'til I join
him in heaven. I hope he has that old bed ready for us.
This story is fiction, based on fact. Based on a story told to me by
"Henry". I created all the wording and trivia, "Henry" supplied the basic
story and facts. This story is in memory of Kevin, his real name, a man I
never met, but wish I had.
Jon Hold
Visiting El Paso, TX
Summer, 2001